


straitjacket

by NoHappyEnding



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Attempted Murder, M/M, Psychotic Hallucinations, delusional!Baekhyun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 16:59:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9195062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoHappyEnding/pseuds/NoHappyEnding
Summary: Too pathetically in love, Chanyeol accepts the fact that Baekhyun tends to ignore him because he thinks that Chanyeol isn’t real.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very, very much to all the mods for tolerating my dumbness! To F, thank you for being so supportive and so suweg. Whoever you may be, dear prompter, thank you for the lovely prompt. I may have tweaked the prompt just a little. I’m really hoping that you’d like this one-shot and you won’t be disappointed. I’ve enjoyed writing this and I really, really hope you would enjoy reading it.

“I don’t know why you insist on doing this, Park.” 

There he was, standing on his tiptoes, outside of the library with his palms pressed against the glass door. Chanyeol shrugged, ignoring his friend’s cocky remark as he stared at the boy sitting alone by the front table, head resting on top of a huge dictionary that seemed too big for his head. The boy had his mouth wide opened as he slept, spectacles sliding down the bridge of his nose and pretty eyes closed. Chanyeol sighed, absolutely mesmerized by the sight of the boy to even acknowledge the other students’ wary glances.

“You come here every morning just to see him.” His friend scoffed, slightly nudging him with his elbow. “Why don’t you just go ahead and talk to him?” 

“It’s okay.” Chanyeol replied, smiling softly when he saw the boy scrunching his nose as the pages of the dictionary flipped against his face. “He would think I’m a freak or something.”

“Are you kidding me?” The boy beside him exclaimed, staring at Chanyeol in disbelief. “If there’s a freak here, it’s him! I heard that Byun Baekhyun is crazy. That’s why he doesn’t have friends.”

Chanyeol frowned. “That’s not nice, Junmyeon. You should probably stop listening to those stupid rumors.” 

“What if it’s not a rumor? I’ve never seen him talk to anyone but sometimes he keeps on mumbling all by himself. Neither have you!” Junmyeon shouted, snorting when he sees Chanyeol sporting a small grin on his lips as they stand at the entrance of the library. “Byun Baekhyun is a maniac.”

Byun Baekhyun—the “maniac”—covered his mouth with the back of his hand as he yawned, slapping his cheeks a few times before adverting his attention onto the book once again. His attempt seemed to fail as his eyes fluttered closed once again. 

Chanyeol gazed at the boy while his heart hammered in his chest. “No, he’s not. He’s just…different.”

 

 

By the time his final class for the day finished, Junmyeon had already gone home. “Emergency date with my girlfriend,” he said, jutting his tongue out. Chanyeol scoffed, shoving his books in his bag, and then slung it over his shoulders. In the midst of muttering curses at his friend for ditching him and their promised gaming session, Chanyeol almost failed to notice the faint shadow of a boy crouching over a desk in one of the classrooms he had walked past—but who was he kidding? Even in the corners of his eyes, Chanyeol could notice Byun Baekhyun anywhere. 

He paused, tightening his grip on his bag before he walked backwards, eyeing the boy from the slightly gaped door. It was almost seven in the evening, lectures were probably over by then, but there sat Byun Baekhyun, alone in the dark room. Chanyeol swallowed nervously, approaching the room cautiously before he knocked on the door. “Hello?”

Chanyeol saw Baekhyun flinching slightly, his head snapping up so fast that Chanyeol heard a faint crack. He cringed, waving at the baffled boy as he stepped into the room, not noticing the way the boy backing away when Chanyeol came nearer. “You’re… Byun Baekhyun, right?”

The atmosphere in the room shifted into something more silent, suffocating as Chanyeol waited for an answer but received none. Instead, Byun Baekhyun nodded gently, eyes hidden behind the strands of his hair. Chanyeol smiled encouragingly, reaching his hand out as a common courtesy. The boy only stared at his palm for the longest time before his gaze travelled from Chanyeol’s sweaty, awaiting hand up to Chanyeol’s balking simper. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” He said, retracting his hand, opting on shoving it back into his coat. “My name is Park Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol waited for a few seconds, waited for something—anything, any response from Baekhyun so that he would not feel like an odd stalker for approaching the boy in a dark room and trying to coax him to talk. He could not say “Oh, hey, I’m Chanyeol and I watch you sleep in the library every morning”, nor could he say “I like you ever since I saw you at the college’s front gate, looking adorable in your denim jacket”. He was already sporting a creepy grin. Chanyeol did not want to terrify the boy even further. 

“D-Do... Do you want to be my friend?” Baekhyun asked ever so quietly, so soft that Chanyeol inevitably had to lean closer to hear what he just said. 

He smiled brightly, taking a seat in front of Baekhyun’s desk. “Yes. Is that okay?”

“It’s okay…” Baekhyun nodded. “It’s just that not many people do.”

Chanyeol wanted to ask what Baekhyun had meant but when he saw the way Baekhyun finally warming up to him, flashing him a smile—every single thoughts in Chanyeol’s mind dissolved under whirling images of dazzling hazels and pink lips. 

  
  


—

  
  


If Chanyeol had asked that question two years ago instead of being lost in Baekhyun’s bright pool of eyes, perhaps he would not even be trapped in this kind of situation. The constant ticks of the clock hanging on the crusty wall irks him to no end as it counts down to the day when Chanyeol had first met Byun Baekhyun—the love of his life. After his odd encounter in the dark classroom, Chanyeol remembers everything turning out so smoothly. 

Baekhyun would always wave at him when they bump into each other in the hallways, both of them ignoring Junmyeon’s judging stare of disbelief. He remembers things clearly; how he invited Baekhyun out on a date, watching a dull movie at a cinema—so boring that Baekhyun fell asleep on his shoulder and Chanyeol had to bite on his inner cheek to prevent himself from grinning too widely. He smiles, remembering the small fragments of his memories with Baekhyun in the past, and how beautiful they were. 

It was until that one particular day—when Baekhyun attacked him with a surprise hug from his back as Chanyeol yelped—that Chanyeol finally understood what Junmyeon meant. Chanyeol was in the middle of chewing on his burnt kimchi fried rice when Baekhyun beamed at him, so contagious that Chanyeol could not fight the urge to smile back. He placed the spoon on the bowl of rice before he rested his chin on his knuckles, staring at Baekhyun in adoration before Baekhyun asked him a question.

“Do you want to meet my best friend?”

Of course he did. Two years ago, Chanyeol and Baekhyun were friends—and Chanyeol was very much aware of his persistent feelings blooming for the smaller boy ever since he saw him sleeping in the library. He had to take small, baby steps; meeting Baekhyun’s friends would be the first thing to be crossed out in the list he had made in his mind. Chanyeol had agreed, and to say that Baekhyun was more than eager was a complete understatement. He was jumping on his seat excitedly. Chanyeol could have laughed in amusement; he attempted to, until Baekhyun pointed to the empty chair beside him and uttered, “This is Kim Jongdae!”

His fingers twitched, staring at the empty seat and just when he thought Baekhyun was playing with him, joking around to not make Chanyeol feel nervous, he saw the way Baekhyun was practically chatting with the air, clapping his hands as he chuckled. Chanyeol felt a few pair of eyes staring at them as if both of them had grown two heads each. Appetite disappearing, Chanyeol gently shoves his bowl of fried rice away as he called out for the boy in front of him. “Baekhyun… Who’s Jongdae?”

“Jongdae is my friend, silly! He even wanted to shake hands with you but you downright ignored him,” Baekhyun unconsciously pouted, wrapping his arms against his chest. “Why are you being rude?”

“I can’t…” Chanyeol gulped, furrowing his eyebrows. “I-I can’t see him.”

Baekhyun stopped fretting over Chanyeol’s lack of decency and manners before he shrugged. “He’s right here.”

Chanyeol unknowingly clenched his fists, overwhelmed with horrific thoughts that kept haunting his mind; every single thing that Junmyeon had ever told him.

_ Byun Baekhyun is crazy. _

He wiped the thin layer of sweat glistening on his forehead as he put on a small grin, waving his hand at the seat beside Baekhyun, who was looking at him with excitement and hope. “Well, I almost didn’t see you there. It’s nice to meet you, Jongdae.”

By then, for Chanyeol, it did not matter if people were sending them weird looks. If Baekhyun had that pretty smile on his face, Chanyeol would do anything to see it again and again. 

 

 

Though now, two years later, Chanyeol does not know if he could still say the same thing. He sighs as he lies beside Baekhyun under the thick sheets, both men shivering at the tingling feeling of the cold air hitting their skins. Chanyeol’s hands itch to pull the man beside him closer, to feel the warmth of his back against Chanyeol’s chest—but at the same time, Chanyeol does not want to interrupt Baekhyun’s sleep. 

This is the time when he thinks Baekhyun seems incredibly beautiful, eyelashes settling just above his fading dark circles, soft breathing that calms Chanyeol’s anxious heart and the occasional whimpers that slip out of his small mouth. 

Despite the fact that the person does not actually exist, Jongdae gradually became someone who Chanyeol despises. Ever since Baekhyun ‘introduced’ Kim Jongdae to him, it seemed like the man was everywhere. It did not stop Chanyeol from asking Baekhyun out for dates, sometimes with Baekhyun tagging Jongdae along. Even though, technically, it was only the both of them, Chanyeol still felt uncomfortable—especially when Baekhyun refused to hold his hand, shyly saying that Jongdae was watching them when Chanyeol wanted to kiss him. 

There were times when Chanyeol was extremely irked, annoyed to the point where he threw his textbook to the floor when they had a study date at the library and Baekhyun kept on talking to Jongdae—talking to himself—when Chanyeol was sitting right in front of him, craving for Baekhyun’s attention. There were times when he wanted to punch a hole in the wall, frustration running in his veins, draining him so much that Chanyeol was even physically tired. 

But there were times that he savored—and those times were crucial. There were times when Baekhyun gave him the prettiest grin, pulling him by his jacket and led him to a hidden place where no one could see Baekhyun pressing his lips onto Chanyeol’s frozen ones. There were times when Baekhyun traced his fingertips on Chanyeol’s jaw, eyes cloudy as he studied the texture of Chanyeol’s sun kissed skin. Those were the times that made it hard for him to let it all go; to let Baekhyun go, to not deal with Baekhyun’s perplexing antics and behavior. 

There was a moment when Baekhyun brought him to his house—four months into their relationship; Chanyeol slowly warmed up to Baekhyun’s complicated mind and his delusions, no bumps on the hazardous terrain of their relationship. Baekhyun’s mother was truly surprised when she saw Chanyeol standing at the front door, towering over her as he held hands with her son. Chanyeol was about to feel nervous, confused upon seeing her reaction. 

The second Baekhyun entered the house, she pulled Chanyeol into a hug, startling him as he gasped. He remembers how his boyfriend’s mother cried, sobbing against his shirt before she thanked him. 

“ _ You’re real, _ ” She once said, wiping her tears clumsily with her palms. “ _ You’re real… T-Thank you… Thank you so much. _ ”

That was when Chanyeol knew that choosing to stay wasn’t a mistake. Seeing how desperate the woman was, Chanyeol came to a realization that Baekhyun needed him more than ever. Perhaps with Chanyeol being by his boyfriend’s side, the man would not be drowning in his hallucination, torn between his reality and delusions. 

Chanyeol cares for his lovely boyfriend. It did not take too long for Chanyeol to fall head over heels for Baekhyun, who, surprisingly, accepted him without any hesitance and doubt. When Baekhyun’s mother explained that Baekhyun was suffering from a mental condition ever since he was a child, Chanyeol could only stare at the sadness in her eyes.

“ _ He used to be better… _ ” The elderly woman wept, “ _ B-But I could not afford to pay for all those medicines and his therapy sessions… _ ”

As Chanyeol helped Baekhyun to prepare drinks for his non-existing friends, he realized that tolerating Baekhyun’s delusions would not have helped. Baekhyun’s mother had warned him not to say anything about Baekhyun’s mental illness—that was the thing that Chanyeol was baffled about. 

Chanyeol only understood what Baekhyun’s mother had meant when Baekhyun and Chanyeol were sleeping in their newly bought studio apartment. In between midnight and dawn, Baekhyun woke up him, shaking him by his body as he cried. He sobbed about how he was unfaithful, how he kissed another man without Chanyeol knowing and Chanyeol could only look at him in confusion.

It had hurt him to see his lover’s shoulders hitching as he hiccupped, tears dampening their bed sheets and shared blanket – it had tormented him even more when his reminded himself that Baekhyun was going through so much pain and trouble for something that did not even fucking  _ exist _ in the first place. 

“Baekhyun,” He called out for the man to look at him, and all Baekhyun did was hide his face in the crook of Chanyeol’s neck. “Hey, hey, calm down. Look at me.” 

The smaller man tilted his head, hiccupping and sniffling as Chanyeol cupped his chin with his two fingers, slanting his lips onto Baekhyun’s softly. “You didn’t cheat on me, Baekhyun. It didn’t really happen. Don’t worry.”

“What do you mean it didn’t happen?” Baekhyun scowled, craning his neck and raised his head to get a better look at the taller man. By then, he already had his hands on Chanyeol’s chest, pushing against it as if he wanted to escape from Chanyeol’s hold.

“These people that you see… Some of them aren’t real, Baekhyun.” He faked a cough. He had to confront Baekhyun about his problem after all; he could not let something so serious go just like that—just to not offend him. “They’re imaginary. Like your friend, Jongdae.”

“No,” Baekhyun slowly said, glaring into Chanyeol’s eyes with his brows completely furrowed. He spoke as if  _ he _ was the one talking some senses to his boyfriend. “They’re real. All of them are real. Jongdae is my childhood best friend.”

“Baekhyun—” Chanyeol called out, only to be cut off. Baekhyun was too far out of his reach then, distancing himself away from Chanyeol on the bed.

“Look, Chanyeol, if you’re upset about me telling you about Jongin cheating on me, you don’t have to worry.” Baekhyun tried to sound reassuring, his voice calm but on the edge of something rougher, something venomous. “It didn’t mean anything to me, Chanyeol.” 

“That’s the point! It didn’t mean anything to me too—because this Jongin guy does  _ not _ exist!” Chanyeol snapped out of frustration, his fists clenched and his jaws locked. “You’re delusional, that’s the problem we’re facing here. Baekhyun, all of these people aren’t real. Jongin isn’t real, neither is Jongdae. I can help you get over these… hallucinations of yours if you just listen to me.” 

Baekhyun’s grip on the bed sheets slackened. Chanyeol heard him taking a short breath in, inhaling sharply; a flash of disbelief dissolving in something darker could be seen in his sullen eyes. He stared at Chanyeol for the longest time, hurt and betrayal etched obvious on his face with a tint of hatred, so subtle but it frightened Chanyeol to no end. 

That, he realized, could be the start of a broken relationship. Baekhyun probably thought that Chanyeol did not trust him, or Chanyeol was indirectly calling him a liar for telling Chanyeol that he had cheated on him with a man that was unknown. But Chanyeol only wanted to help him. Baekhyun’s delusions were getting out of hand; he was on Chanyeol’s sight the whole day, having just finished unpacking their necessities into their new apartment. How on earth could he be going out, drinking and kissing another man?

Baekhyun had created situations and scenarios in his own mind without him even knowing it, isolating himself from reality to sneak into the dark bubble of his fantasies and delusions—to Chanyeol, it was fine. As long as Baekhyun did not hurt himself, Chanyeol was fine with him having to deal with seeing the way Baekhyun talk to the corner of the walls or smiling at the kitchen counter. 

But when he saw Baekhyun struggling to breathe, strangled with guilt as he confessed of his act of infidelity that did not actually happen, Chanyeol decided that he had to put a stop to it eventually. He would do anything to help his boyfriend. They were short on money, but that was okay. He could work on different part time jobs if he were to send Baekhyun for a weekly therapy session and pay for Baekhyun’s medications. He was willing to help.

“Baekhyun…” He tried to move closer, resting his hand on Baekhyun’s arm. His gaze softened seeing Baekhyun’s condition as he rubbed his hand on Baekhyun’s forearm, wanting to comfort. 

“Do not fucking touch me,” Baekhyun muttered, swatting Chanyeol’s hands away. Chanyeol was a little hurt, but he did not dwell on the fact that Baekhyun did not want him close. It was his fault for pressing on a sensitive topic for the both of them, after all. “You’re just like my mom. I thought you were different.”

Chanyeol stiffened at that, biting on his bottom lip too hard, it bled. The way Baekhyun wiped the angry tears by his cheeks settled an uncomfortable twist in the pit of Chanyeol’s stomach. Baekhyun curled up on the other side of the bed, back facing Chanyeol, slightly hunching when he sniffled. Chanyeol felt awful and guilty—but he also felt sad knowing that Baekhyun would not trust his own boyfriend. He knew that things would not go smoothly after the argument they had, and Baekhyun already had one foot out of the door of their relationship. 

  
  


 

Chanyeol blinks, whimpering quietly when he realizes that snippets of his memories with Baekhyun are all coming back to him. Their relationship is not the same ever since. Baekhyun refuses to even look at him every single time when Chanyeol tries to coax him into going to therapy and seeking for help on his condition. Knowing the fact that Baekhyun might leave him if he continues, Chanyeol settles on not mentioning about therapy sessions and medications. 

He feels like he’s going insane. He fakes a grin when he sees Baekhyun giggling alone on their couch, fighting for the remote control with absolutely no one. He nods along and hums to anything Baekhyun says, initiating conversations with Baekhyun’s nonexistent friends at the dinner table. If Junmyeon was still here, he would have called Chanyeol crazy.

Given the fact that Baekhyun sometimes ignores him during the day, Chanyeol opts on properly looking at Baekhyun at night, when both of them have their guards down. No shouts, no complaints of not spending time together—just him, watching as Baekhyun stirs and turns in his sleep, basking in the warmth of Chanyeol’s embrace as Chanyeol pulls him in. 

Something tightens in his chest as his eyes land on the creases on Baekhyun’s forehead, thus Chanyeol pads his thumb smoothly on his boyfriend’s skin. If Junmyeon was still here, he would have definitely called Chanyeol crazy.

But then again, Chanyeol does not really mind anymore. He does not care what people say—he did not care back then and he still does not pay any heed now. As he watches Baekhyun sleeping on the bed beside him at four in the morning, Chanyeol supposes that nothing else matters as long as he has Baekhyun safely tucked in his arms. 

It’s one of their casual nights, Chanyeol asked for a day off at work and Baekhyun spent his day talking and laughing with his imaginary friends. As he holds Baekhyun securely in his grasp, Chanyeol could not help but feel like Baekhyun is slowly slipping out of his embrace. 

“I love you,” he softly whispers against Baekhyun’s lips. 

And truthfully, Chanyeol is beyond terrified.

  
  


—

  
  


It’s quite a nice Sunday evening, Chanyeol supposes.

The city is always crowded with people bustling here and there, locals heading to the destinations that they desire, foreigners stopping by to stand beside a meaningless statue of forgotten personages. Chanyeol finds himself basking in the autumn wind, blowing at his hair sideways as he buries his face in the collar of his coat. He cradles his favorite dirt blue Diana F+ in his hands, walking to the particular café by the corner of the building just a few blocks north. 

He stands behind the pillars in front of the café, spotting a familiar figure by the corner in the small coffee shop, whose hand is on his mouth, covering his bright laughter. Chanyeol adjusts the cap on his head, lowering his gaze as he enters the door to the café, the ring of the bell attracting attention from the other customers before they continue to mind their own business once again.

“Can I have one caramel latte to go, please?” He says quietly, resembling a mere whisper. He glances at the man sitting alone at the rounded table in the corner, talking with no care of any stranger’s judgments. 

The barista frowns as she leans in closer, raising her brow. “One caramel latte, yes? Can I have your name, sir?” 

“Uh,” Chanyeol fumbles with his lomography camera, swiftly trying to think of an impromptu name. “Park Jooyoung. Thanks.”

He hurries back to his seat, placing the camera onto the small table as he looks around the café. It was Baekhyun’s favorite coffee shop ever since Chanyeol met him two years ago, and now, by the looks of it—judging by Baekhyun’s eye-crinkling grin that he flashes as he talks to air, Chanyeol is sure that it’s still his favorite. 

“Two iced caramel macchiato for Byun Baekhyun and Kim Jongdae!” The previous barista calls out, her eyes searching for any two men with no iced coffee in their hands, only to see a single man approaching her as he grabs two of the coffee and thanks her. 

“Here’s your drink,” Chanyeol hears Baekhyun say to the unoccupied seat in front of him, placing a cup of iced coffee on the table. He sees the barista’s widened, baffled eyes as she stares at Baekhyun like he is some kind of lunatic. Chanyeol definitely sees the teenage boys snorting by the counter, making fun of the man who is still currently talking alone. 

Chanyeol feels like he should stomp up to those boys, or walk to his boyfriend’s table to say that it is a coincidence for them to meet, but all Chanyeol does is grab his camera and focuses on his small boyfriend who nonchalantly stirs his cup of coffee with no care of any gazes laid upon him. 

With a click, Chanyeol captures. 

 

—

  
  


To him, Monday blues are—for obvious reasons—a real thing.

For Chanyeol, Monday is basically the shittiest fucking day of the week. That, or Chanyeol is not really feeling so fantastic—who would, if they see their boyfriend running at the park, arm stretched out as if he is holding someone else’s hand? It’s almost half past eight, Chanyeol is exhausted and drained from work and his burdens. But as he sees Baekhyun twirling around in the flower garden near their neighborhood, Chanyeol figures that his boyfriend is having a nicer day compared to him.

He sees the man standing in front of the cotton candy parlor watching Baekhyun awkwardly, not to mention that a woman walking by rushes to her daughter’s side, pulling the child away from Baekhyun who takes a pinch of yellow cotton candy and feeds it to no one. Chanyeol walks away, heading towards his car as he unlocks it from afar. He grabs the blue camera in the glove compartment, quickly shutting the door closed as he dashes back to the flower garden.

“Come on, Jongdae, taste it!” Chanyeol hears Baekhyun exclaim as Baekhyun shoves the cone of cotton candy to his left, pouting. “It’s good, okay? You have to try it in order to know if it’s good or not.”

Chanyeol feels like he should shove the stupid cotton candy to the ground, grab onto Baekhyun’s hand and bring him home, but all he does is hold onto his camera and twists the lense, focusing on his small boyfriend who shapes the cotton candy into the form of a small heart. 

And once again, with a click, Chanyeol captures. 

  
  


—

  
  


On that Wednesday night, Chanyeol’s eyes are cloudy as he tries to focus on whatever is on the television. Time somehow seems to pass slower when Baekhyun is not by his side and deep in his heart, Chanyeol suffers bit by bit as he waits for his boyfriend to return. The smaller man refused to return his calls and reply to his texts—Chanyeol figures that Baekhyun was, again, busy hanging out with Jongdae.

Fate was on his side when Chanyeol finally hears the door unlock, sounds of house keys hitting one another. Baekhyun appears tired as he drags his feet into their shared apartment, or perhaps Baekhyun is feigning fatigue as he walks to the kitchen to heat up the leftover pretzels they had for breakfast. 

“Babe, I need to talk to you,” Chanyeol says, muting the newscaster’s blabbers on the television. He hears Baekhyun hum along the beeping microwave. Chanyeol takes that as a yes. Chanyeol stands on the tip of his toes to reach for the brown envelope sitting on the top of the cupboard of their living room. 

Chanyeol tosses the brown envelope on the dinner table, catching Baekhyun’s sudden attention as he eyes it warily. “What’s this?” 

“Open it.” Chanyeol says. 

Printed pictures of Baekhyun fill the whole dining table, some flying off to the floor. Pictures of his boyfriend chatting alone in the café last Sunday, of yellow cotton candies and broken hearts, followed by pictures of Baekhyun sitting in the living room facing the wall. Baekhyun studies the photos one by one, his hand shaking in anger. “What the fuck is all of this?”

“I… took pictures of you when you were talking to Jongdae and your other friends.” Chanyeol explains, preparing himself for the worst. 

Judging by the way Baekhyun slams his hand on the table, ripping a photo of him by the café, Chanyeol knows he had crossed the line once again.“You  _ stalked _ me?!” 

“I’m just trying to prove to you the fact that you’re talking alone in all of these pictures!” Chanyeol exclaims, as exasperated as his boyfriend is. “I’m trying to prove to you that Jongdae—or any of your other friends—they aren’t real!”

“Stop it!” Baekhyun shouts, warm tears settling by his eyes. His eyes are wide as he stares at the photos scattered by his feet, picking them up one by one as he runs to the kitchen and grabs on a box of matches. “I thought we were over this?! Why are you still doing this?”

“Baekhyun, please,” Chanyeol pleads, trying to stop his boyfriend from burning all the pictures Chanyeol had taken a few days ago. “I was trying to prove a point… You don’t see Jongdae in any of those pictures, do you?”

“You’re a fucking freak! Who gave you the rights to follow me and take all these pictures of me?!” Baekhyun spits out venom, throwing all of the pictures into the trashcan as he lights up a match. “Stay out of my life!”

“Baekhyun, don’t! You’ll burn the house down!” Chanyeol grips onto Baekhyun’s arm tightly, throwing the match into the sink as he tries to calm the trembling man in his hold. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I was thinking, Baekhyun. Please don’t leave me. I won’t do it again. I’m sorry.” 

  
  


—

  
  


Based on experience, Thursday is usually an unlucky day for Chanyeol. But as he sees the proud smile blooming on his boss’ face when he announces how Chanyeol deserves a raise from all his hard work, Chanyeol somehow favors Thursday more than ever. It was not like he had any troubles paying the electric bills or the house rent. He had enough in his savings and his monthly salary was enough to feed a family of four. 

Chanyeol has been working hard the past few weeks so he could finally buy something for his boyfriend – that is, if Baekhyun ever remembers the second anniversary of their dying relationship. Just thinking about purchasing the gift he had been wanting to buy has him feeling giddy, bouncing on his feet as he heads to the small Japanese restaurant that Baekhyun likes a few blocks away. 

He feels like it has been a while since he has seen Baekhyun smile. Both of them were busy with their own respective lives, but Chanyeol has never forgotten to show his boyfriend how much he loves him. They have not been spending much time together, considering that Chanyeol is always at work in the afternoon and Baekhyun is occupied with his friends in the evenings. He just hopes that a nice, simple dinner would allow Baekhyun to at least look at him.

In the midst of paying for his packed meals, Chanyeol is interrupted by a light shove on his shoulder. He twitches in sudden shock before he sees Junmyeon’s teasing face in front of him. “Chanyeol!”

“Oh, hey, Junmyeon,” He greets his friend with a quick hug, careful enough not to drop the plastic bag that he has been holding. “It’s so good to see you. Where’s your wife?”

Junmyeon groans playfully, his semi blonde hair that was once neatly combed, now tousled and messy. “Irene is at home. She pushed me out of the house because she was craving for sushi and forced me to buy some. I swear, it’s like she’s using our baby as an excuse to get everything she wants.” 

“She’s pregnant?” Chanyeol’s eyes widen in pleasant surprise, lips turning into a broad smile. “Wow, congratulations! I can’t really imagine you being a father. Lord better make sure you take good care of that baby.”

Junmyeon laughs before he jabs his fingers on Chanyeol’s chest as a quick punishment. “Rude ass bitch, I’m going to be a great father.” 

“I surely hope so,” Chanyeol sticks out his tongue, wanting to tease further. “But in all seriousness, I’m really happy for you, man. You’ve been chasing after her since high school and now you guys are going to be parents.”

The two men walk side by side, cladded in their coats as the first snow falls on their padded shoulders. Junmyeon clears his throat awkwardly before he turns to ask Chanyeol a question that has been running in his head. “How are you doing, though?” 

“I’m doing fine,” Chanyeol simply replies. He does not exactly know whether his reply is a lie or not. “Same old, same old. Oh, I just got promoted at work. That’s a plus.” 

“T-That’s great…” Junmyeon stammers, “Uh, are you still with… Baekhyun?” 

“Hmm? Yeah, I’m still with Baekhyun,” He smiles, not noticing the look of disapproval on Junmyeon’s face. “He’s doing well too… Our anniversary is just around the corner, I’ve been saving up to buy him something that I’ve wanted to buy. I just hope he likes it… I’m afraid that he won’t, but then again, if he wanted something else, I’d buy it for him in a heartbeat.” Chanyeol laughs.

“Park, I’m sorry to say this, but…” Junmyeon purses his lips, looking at Chanyeol with pity affection resting in his eyes. “You’re still so attached to Baekhyun… I get that the both of you have a serious relationship but come on, Chanyeol. He’s not… he’s not like any other people. He’s a person with severe mental illnesses. Like… like schizophrenia! He can’t differentiate reality and his fucked up delusional mind, that’s dangerous, man.”

Chanyeol shuts his eyes closed, stopping his pace to let the pounding in his head disappear. “Junmyeon, don’t do this. Not right now, please. I have a lot on my mind.” 

“I’m fucking serious!” His good friend shouts, exasperated at Chanyeol’s stubborn behavior. “I’m worried for you, Chanyeol. You told me that Baekhyun isn’t even on medications. You know that this is just going to get worse, right? You have the rights to leave, Park… so why can’t you just do so?” 

“It’s not that easy…” He whimpers, clutching tightly onto the plastic bag. “Baekhyun needs me.”

“Who are you kidding? Ever since the last time I saw you, I noticed that Baekhyun barely even looked at you.” Junmyeon flails his arms in frustration, attracting curious strangers passing by the sidewalk. “Tell me, Park, does he really need you? ‘Cause it seems to me that you’re the one who’s clinging and latching onto him like a fucking pitiful bug.” 

“I… Baekhyun is the person that I’m deeply in love with,” Chanyeol says, his voice strangled. “He’s the man that I spent my days in college staring at him when he’s sleeping in the library every mornings, the man that I fell in love with just by seeing that pretty smile.”

“I know…” Junmyeon sighs for the umpteenth time, “I was there, remember?”

“He’s… He’s the man that prioritizes his imaginary friends more than his own existing boyfriend,” Chanyeol’s heart clenches as he recalls what had happened a few years ago. “He’s the man that ignores me because he thinks I’m not real, he’s the man that woke me up one night, frantically crying and apologizing when he confessed of cheating on me with someone who doesn’t even exist.” 

Chanyeol could not bear to raise his gaze to see Junmyeon looking at him in pity. He does not need anyone to feel sorry for him. Chanyeol chose to stay. Two years ago, it felt like it was the right thing to do. He could not really say the same thing to his situation now. 

“He’s the man that I cry over every single night as I listen to him laughing in an empty living room.” Chanyeol whispers, ripping his heart open in his hands. He allows Junmyeon to see his pain that he has been bottling up in his chest. “He’s the man that hurts me to no end but secretly cares for me even if he thinks I’m just the figment of his imaginations. And that’s more than enough for me.” 

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Junmyeon pats him on his back, “Just remember that you can leave whenever you want to.”

“I won’t,”  _ and I’m not planning to, _ he wants to say. It’s the ugly truth. “Say hi to Irene for me, yeah? Again, congratulations… for the baby.”

Junmyeon’s shoulders visibly slump in defeat when Chanyeol stubbornly refuses to listen to his advice. His friend balks, waving him goodbye when they part at a junction. Chanyeol inhales the cold winter air, faking a smile, the idea of finally spending time with Baekhyun pulling on his heartstrings. 

“I’m home,” He announces, slipping out of his worn out boots. In the middle of trying to hang his coat, Chanyeol hears the sounds of spoon clinking against plates and the soft rhythms of his boyfriend’s familiar laughter. He places the take-out food on the half moon table, house keys and pending bills all scrunched up. “Baekhyun…?”

Plates of food filled up the small dining table, along with six other empty platters for each seats. He notices the baby blue apron draped over the kitchen counter, pots and pans occupying the sink that was usually deserted. Baekhyun has his head thrown back, laughing hysterically as his hand holds a glass of cheap wine. Chanyeol stands frozen, bemused, staring as his boyfriend talks to the vacant seat. “I know, right? I bet when he—”

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol closes his eyes, trying to ignore the stinging pain of getting a single word crawl out of his bleeding throat. “What’s all this?”

“Oh, hey,” Baekhyun nods in his way, nonchalant. “I made dinner. We’re celebrating Sehun’s birthday.”

Chanyeol stiffens at the mention of a random stranger, but eventually relaxes when he notices that Baekhyun has been smiling at the wall. “All right, sweetheart. Can I join?”

“…Uh, sure, I guess,” Baekhyun says, sending him a wary look. “But all of the seats are occupied.”

“Can I sit there?” He points to the empty chair right beside his boyfriend. Chanyeol wants nothing but to spend time with Baekhyun—to properly look at him, touch that mole on his upper lip, feel the texture of Baekhyun’s mouth against his own. But his boyfriend only chuckles, waving him off. 

“Jongdae is sitting here, silly,” Baekhyun rolls his eyes, as if Chanyeol’s question is somehow a waste of time. As if the small conversation that they are having is a waste of effort. “We’re kind of in the middle of a hot gossip right now, so…”

“Okay,” Chanyeol utters once again, pausing to swallow the screams of frustrations down his throat. “I’ll just… eat in the bedroom. You don’t mind, right?”

“Nope, I don’t. You can go to sleep right after,” Baekhyun flashes him a hesitant smile. He could have at least properly faked it. “Don’t wait up.”

Chanyeol nods, warm tears settling in his eyes as he turns away, grabbing the Japanese takeout for two and walking to their shared room. It’s one of those nights again; the nights that Chanyeol despises the most—the nights that consist of shallow laughter, wasted dinner and broken, empty China. 

The nights where Chanyeol slides down the floor, too exhausted to hold himself up, resting his back against the door that separates him and Baekhyun’s own world that he does not belong in. He throws the takeout food into the trashcan, wrapping his arms around his knees, scraping his fingernails onto his jeans. 

_ Tell me, Park, does he really need you? ‘Cause it seems to me that you’re the one who’s clinging and latching onto him like a fucking pitiful bug. _

Perhaps what Junmyeon had told him was true. Perhaps Baekhyun is not the one who needs him, who needs to reach out for the warmth of his welcoming arms—perhaps it was the other way around. It surely seems like it, Chanyeol thinks as he sits quietly on the cold marbled floor, listening to Baekhyun making jokes about Jongdae’s crooked smile. 

Chanyeol supposes that he is insane—turning into a monster that envies a mere illusion of one’s hallucinating mind. He’s undeniably jealous of Baekhyun’s imaginary friends, who, despite being unreal, get to spend time with Baekhyun compared to him. It sounds pathetic when Chanyeol rephrases it in his mind, but then again, it was the truth. 

As he listens to Baekhyun’s constant melodic laughter from the other room, Chanyeol picks the trashcan up before throwing it across the bedroom, screaming and begging for his sanity to come back.

  
  


—

  
  


Chanyeol tries to erase any irrelevant thoughts out of his head as he types on the keyboard swiftly, but his efforts fail as the thought s of Baekhyun, Baekhyun,  _ Baekhyun _ , haunting his mind to no end until he grunts, slamming his fingers on the computer’s keyboard frustratingly. He feels so torn, on the brink of giving up and letting go—but at the same time, he’s still so fucking in love that he could not do anything.

His colleagues glance at him in worry, one of them walking by to pat him on the back. “What a stressful day, huh?”

Chanyeol nods slowly, taking out his phone from the pockets of his blazer. “Yeah, a stressful day indeed.” 

 

**To: Junmyeon**

Hey. It’s Chanyeol. Lunch break together? You can pick the place. I just need to talk to you. 

 

**From: Junmyeon**

Sure. You okay?

 

“I’m fine,” Chanyeol softly whispers, more to a reassurance to himself rather than a reply to Junmyeon’s text. “I’m fine…”

  
  


Chanyeol continues to twirl his fork in his plate of soggy spaghetti, trying hard to avoid Junmyeon’s relentless sigh and anxious gaze on him. Ever since he arrived to the restaurant that Junmyeon sent him the location to go to, he has been avoiding the need to initiate a serious conversation despite him being the one who invited Junmyeon out for lunch.

“Chanyeol,” His friend says. He sounds disappointed. He sounds fed up. “Why can’t you tell me what is it that’s bothering you so much?” 

Now that Junmyeon is right in front of him, all ready to listen and talk, Chanyeol’s plan on confiding in his friend about his constant dilemma is backfired. He’s suddenly unsure of his upcoming decisions, wanting to comply with Junmyeon’s personal opinions but he knows what’s about to come. If Chanyeol were to tell Junmyeon about all the problems with Baekhyun that he’s currently still facing, Junmyeon would only do one thing.

He would force Chanyeol to leave his boyfriend. Chanyeol does not want to do so. He  _ wants _ to leave—but at the same time, he does not want to abandon his boyfriend of two years. He just wants the sweet, loving college boyfriend back—but Baekhyun has fallen deep into the abyss of his delusions and Chanyeol doesn’t know what he could do to drag Baekhyun back to reality.

“I’m so torn apart…” Chanyeol finally says, settling the fork and spoon on the plate too hard that it clinks loudly. “I don’t want to leave him, I really don’t, but he’s killing me.”

Junmyeon slurps on his soda with his expression wretched, frown still evident on his face. He looks like he’s out of advices to tell and ideas to give, and truthfully saying, if Chanyeol was in Junmyeon’s shoes, he would be too. 

“I know you love him. I could see the way you treat him ever since you guys were dating back in college.” Junmyeon says, his frown disappearing as he gives Chanyeol a small smile. “No one else could treat Baekhyun so gently like you did. Everyone else didn’t even want to talk to him.”

Chanyeol runs his fingers through his hair, smiling back. “Yeah…”

“But Chanyeol, if you really do love him, you need to help him.” Junmyeon tries to reason. The pasta suddenly tastes bland on his tongue. “And by help, I mean, he needs professional help. You can’t just expect him to change when you’re playing along with his imaginary friends. It doesn’t go that way.”

“I know…” Chanyeol sighs, feeling too disheartened. “I know that someday I might have to leave. But it’s hard to let him go. I’m still in love with him.”

A few seconds of silence washes over them, before Junmyeon gathers the courage to ask, “But… is he in love with you?”

Chanyeol stiffens in his seat. The question that he has been afraid to hear the answer to is now inevitable for him to not listen. He shakes his head, bottom lip trembling slightly. “I don’t know…”

“I think… once you know the answer to that, you would make the right decisions.” Junmyeon replies. “If it’s any help, I looked up on some professional psychiatrists in Seoul. I can give you their numbers.”

“That’s okay. Not now, probably.” Chanyeol croaks out, bitter. “I don’t really want to ruin anything on our anniversary soon.”

Junmyeon shrugs, roaming his eyes elsewhere as he continues to sip on his iced soda. 

 

—

  
  


The loud cackle that could be heard from the living room startles him as Chanyeol jolts awake, headache pulsing in his head and dried tear tracks evident on his face. He tosses his hand carelessly on the other side of the bed, frowning when all he feels is cold, empty sheets. Squinting, Chanyeol sees the 3:49A.M stated in red on their shared alarm clock. “Baekhyun…?”

Chanyeol sits on the bed, now wide awake, staring at the door as he hears Baekhyun talking alone. Slipping onto his socks, Chanyeol shivers when his foot touches the cold floor. He exits the room with a sigh, only to hide behind the walls when he hears Baekhyun bursting into a fit of giggles.

“I can’t do it now, he’s asleep,” Chanyeol hears Baekhyun whisper playfully. “Do you think I should?” 

He walks on the tip of his toes slowly, sliding his arms around his boyfriend’s waist, resting his head on the man’s shoulder as he exhales heavily against Baekhyun’s neck. Chanyeol could feel Baekhyun shuddering with a gasp before the man in his hold pushes him away, so harsh that Chanyeol’s feet trips on the slippery floor and he falls on his back. 

Chanyeol looks at Baekhyun in disbelief and shock. What confuses him even more is that he feels a tinge of fright, seeing Baekhyun’s disheveled state. His palms burn, so does his backside, the impact of Baekhyun’s push hurting him both physically and emotionally.  _ Baekhyun is pushing him away. _

“What…” Chanyeol croaks out. Somehow he feels like something is pulling him back and strangling his neck. “What was that?”

“You shouldn’t have startled me like that,” Baekhyun murmurs under his breath, hands clutching onto the cushion. He begins to shake his head, frantic and rushed, muttering incoherent words softly until he eventually speaks louder. “No, Jongdae, I won’t do that—at least—a-at least not now.” 

“Do what? What is Jongdae telling you to do, Baekhyun?” Chanyeol gets onto his knees, standing up to hold onto Baekhyun again, with much caution this time. Baekhyun flinches like he always does, before he relaxes into Chanyeol’s touch, allowing the taller man to carry him back into their shared bedroom. “Tell me, what did Jongdae say? Did he say anything bad to you?”

Baekhyun ignores him as Chanyeol places him gently on the bed, and Baekhyun immediately hides himself under the covers, avoiding Chanyeol with all his might. Chanyeol tries to tug the blanket down; he would have tugged onto it harder with force if it isn’t for Baekhyun’s grunt. Chanyeol slowly welcomes himself under the blanket, heart palpitating as his eyes bores into Baekhyun’s closed ones. 

He runs his fingers through Baekhyun’s brown locks, pads of fingertips pressing onto Baekhyun’s scalp as his thumb makes its way to Baekhyun’s eyelashes and Chanyeol stares at his heartbreak in silence. “Let’s go out tomorrow.”

“Where?” Baekhyun wonders, scowling in the dark. Perhaps he thinks that Chanyeol would not have seen it marring his face. “For what?”

“It’s been a while since we’ve gone on a date, right?” Chanyeol tries to reason with him, though he knows nothing good ever happens after 2 in the morning. 

Baekhyun pretends to yawn before he shakes his head. “I’m going out with Kyungsoo, Sehun and Jongdae tomorrow.” 

_ No, you’re going out alone. _ Chanyeol wants to say. Instead, he pats Baekhyun on the head awkwardly, smiling. “Okay. Another time, then.”

Baekhyun nods sleepily against his pillow, so close to him that Chanyeol could pull him in his embrace and never let go, but then again Baekhyun also seems too far, distant, so out of reach that Chanyeol could not capture him even with a touch of his finger.

“Do you love me?” He whispers, knowing that Baekhyun is probably fast asleep, but he secretly hopes for a response; Baekhyun’s sincere answer.

Seeing the way Baekhyun turns around, burying his face into the pillows, distancing himself from his boyfriend on the bed, Chanyeol supposes that he knows the answer after all.

  
  


—

  
  


“How was your day?”

Chanyeol asks with a bashful simper, sudden reddening heat rising up to his neck when he sees Baekhyun stepping out of the bathroom with nothing but his navy blue towel wrapped around his lower body. Baekhyun only shrugs as a response, pulling on his towel with a harsh tug before throwing it into the laundry basket, unfazed by Chanyeol gazing upon his nudity. 

Chanyeol reaches his hands out for Baekhyun to take, pulling him closer as Chanyeol grabs on a dry spare towel to wipe the excess water droplets on Baekhyun’s shoulders. 

“I had a really stressful day at work, but I kept on thinking about you,” Chanyeol says, shy as pink tints flush by his cheeks. “When the clock strikes 12 later on, it’ll be our second anniversary as a couple. Do you remember?” 

Baekhyun seems genuinely startled at his question. He gives Chanyeol a small apologetic smile, shaking his head. Chanyeol’s heart drops at his reaction—upset that Baekhyun did not even remember the day they had became a couple. 

“Sorry, I must have forgotten. I didn’t buy anything for you.”  Baekhyun mumbles, slipping onto his sweater. “Sorry.” 

“That… T-That’s okay!” Chanyeol flashes him a reassuring grin. He places a kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek, ignoring the way Baekhyun is too swift to pull away. “I bought a gift for you, sweetheart. Do you want to take a look?” 

He knows that Baekhyun would not reply to his question, but Chanyeol rushes to the dresser nevertheless, his palms sweating as he holds onto the gift bag, wrapped with a small red ribbon and a card that he scribbled on earlier this morning. 

Chanyeol clears his throat before he hands the gift to his boyfriend who hesitantly accepts it with a grimace marring on his face. He feels anxious for some reasons, constantly blinking and rubbing the pads of his fingers on his clothed thighs as he waits for Baekhyun to open the gift. 

When he finally does, Chanyeol breaks into a soft chuckle. “Do you like it?”

In Baekhyun’s hands, there lay a sleek black instant camera with small boxes filled with empty films. Chanyeol notices how Baekhyun’s jaw immediately locks as his small hands clench around the camera before his eyes bore into Chanyeol’s trembling fingers. “What is this?”

“I-I thought you would like to capture every single moments in your life with your friends…” Chanyeol manages to stutter out. “And… capture every single precious moments in your life with me.”

Half of what he said is true—but in this way, Chanyeol supposes that it would be easier for Baekhyun to realize that his friends do not exist; to realize that Baekhyun’s only reality is Chanyeol and his undying love for him. Though Baekhyun only scoffs, throwing the brand-new instant camera to the grey walls with a loud smash, fractured black pieces shattered all over the floor, resembling Chanyeol’s broken heart. 

“You… You don’t like it?” Chanyeol asks pathetically, adverting his eyes to anywhere but his boyfriend who is currently glaring at the wall. He would not want Baekhyun to see the tears brimming by his eyes. “I’m sorry. You must’ve disliked the color. I’ll buy you a new one, okay? Is… Is yellow nice?” 

Baekhyun slowly turns to look at him, and Chanyeol is beyond surprised to see his bloodshot eyes with tears tracing his cheeks. He calls Chanyeol by his name in a small whisper, sounding broken. “Stop it, Chanyeol.”

“I don’t understand, sweetheart,” He steps closer, wanting to comfort, to console, but Baekhyun pushes him away with a harsh slap on his face. “Baekhyun…”

“I know what you’re trying to do, Chanyeol…” Baekhyun whispers, voice husky and low, before it erupts into a loud giggling laughter. “I know you’re trying to prove to me that my friends aren’t real. But did you know what Jongdae had said to me?” 

Chanyeol holds onto his jaw with his left hand while the other struggles to get a hold of Baekhyun’s arm before Baekhyun throws the empty films in his way. “Jongdae said that  _ you _ are the one that’s not real and you’re trying to control who I’m friends with. You’re a sick, possessive bastard who won’t just leave me alone!” 

“N-No… Baekhyun, that’s not true—” Chanyeol croaks out, choking on his tears. He tastes salt. “Baby, listen to me. Jongdae doesn’t exist! He’s only a character that you’ve created in your hallucinating mind and I’m trying to help you fight it!” 

“Get the hell away from me!” Baekhyun’s voice booms throughout the whole room as his fists land on Chanyeol’s chest. “I’ve been fine with Jongdae before you came along! You don’t exist… You’re not real… J-Just… Just get out.”

“Baekhyun, please, I love you,” He whispers desperately, grasping onto Baekhyun’s hands. “I love you so much and I’d never want to hurt you. We can go through this together… You… you just have to trust me. Please...”

The smaller man takes one last look at him—at his sorrowful, pleading eyes before he dashes out of the bedroom, slamming the door shut and all Chanyeol could do is fall onto his knees. 

Quietly, Chanyeol collects the blank films that were scattered on the floor, placing them back into the box. He gathers the debris of the broken camera in his hand, wincing softly when sharp pieces jab into his skin as small droplets of blood land on the floor. 

He spots the small, handwritten card by his shattered heart, crushing it in his bleeding palms as he brings his hands to his chest, crying over ripped films and rotten love. Chanyeol chuckles silently to himself. “He didn’t even read it, did he…” 

He waits for Baekhyun to come back, perhaps he would ignore Chanyeol and hide his whole self underneath the bed sheets—but that’s fine, rather than both of them arguing over something that could not be solved, Chanyeol prefers Baekhyun to ignore him once again. He waits, and waits for Baekhyun to enter the room, but nothing came. 

Preparing an apology for Baekhyun in his mind, Chanyeol steps into the small living room, perplexed as to why the room becomes darker the moment he enters. His ears perk up when he hears Baekhyun’s hums from the couch, staring as the light illuminates on his face. Chanyeol sighs in relief, walking over to his small boyfriend as he takes a seat beside him, reluctantly holding onto his arm. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry—” His apology is cut short by his throat when Chanyeol notices the kitchen knife gripped tightly in Baekhyun’s clenched fist. “Baekhyun...?”

Chanyeol watches as Baekhyun swallows sharply, hands shaking as he traces the point of the knife with his finger. “Jongdae said that… you could disappear if I just… I-If I just kill you…”

“W-What…?” The taller man freezes, words stuck in his mouth as he sees Baekhyun chuckling gently. 

With smooth slides of his feet on the floor, Baekhyun pretends to blow at the small dusts by the knife. And the closer he gets, the wider he smiles. “Happy anniversary, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol backs away, clutching on the edges of the couch as he looks at his boyfriend in fear. “Baekhyun, sweetheart, put the knife down…” 

“I am honestly so sick of you trying to take my friends away from me,” Baekhyun spits, pressing the tip of the knife onto Chanyeol’s thigh roughly, making the man scream in pain. “Jongdae is my best friend, Chanyeol… Why are you trying to take him away from me…?” 

“Baekhyun, don’t—you don’t know what you’re doing,” Chanyeol pleads, shaking as he tries to push Baekhyun away. “Stop, please, don’t do this, Baekhyun!”

“I’m sorry, Chanyeol, but Jongdae told me to kill you,” Baekhyun presses a kiss on Chanyeol’s neck as he stabs the knife deeper on Chanyeol’s thigh, fresh blood staining their old couch. “You’re not real, so it wouldn’t hurt… Right…?” 

Chanyeol wails in pain, desperately calling out for help as he screams for Baekhyun to stop – but the man only laughs softly, whispering to himself. “Yes, Jongdae, I’m trying to kill him, can’t you be patient for just a minute?”

“B-Baek… Baekhyun, stop… Please…” He begs, frantically trying to shove the knife out of Baekhyun’s tight grip. “J-Jongdae… isn’t… real…” 

“Yes he is!” Baekhyun shouts right in his ear, pressing the knife even harder. “He  _ is _ real! Do not talk about my friend like that, Chanyeol… It’s our anniversary today, why are you upsetting me on our anniversary?” 

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” Chanyeol thrashes around on the couch, using all his might to push Baekhyun away before he drags himself on the floor, leaving tracks of his blood. He grabs onto the telephone lying on the half moon table, fingers trembling as he tries to dial the emergency number. Chanyeol sees Baekhyun standing up, staring at him as he calls for help, looking at his boyfriend in a terrified manner. 

“Chanyeol, come back… Do you know that Jongdae is always mad at me and it’s your entire fault?” Baekhyun pouts, tears and blood stained by his cheekbones. “He told me to ignore you or else he would get angry and scare me so I did ignore you… But you—you keep on coming back and you won’t shut up and now Jongdae is angry and I have to kill you and… a-and… Chanyeol, come back here… You have always wanted to be close to me, right…?” 

“Please, please, I need help,” Chanyeol pants to the other line in panic, clutching on his bleeding, injured leg. In the corner of his eyes, Chanyeol glances at Baekhyun who kneels on the dirtied floor, crawling after him with the knife still held in his hand. “N-No, Baekhyun, don’t, please—”

  
  


—

  
  
  


“I’m not quite sure why you insist on doing this, Mr. Park.”  

There he is, sitting on his creaking wheelchair, outside of the asylum’s padded room with his palms pressed against the glass door. Chanyeol shrugs, throwing a small smile at the doctor standing beside him as he stares at the man sitting alone by the corner of the room, pretty eyes sunken and his body wrapped in a white straitjacket from waist-up. The man has his back hunched as he sits on the small bed, bobbing his head from time to time while incoherent words drip out of his chapped lips. 

“You come here every morning just to see him,” The professional psychiatrist says, gently holding Chanyeol by his arm. “Why don’t you just go ahead and talk to him? We will have all the guards and nurses on standby.” 

“It’s okay,” Chanyeol replies, smiling softly when he sees Baekhyun staring back at him—and he’s struck with the fragments of his memories and their past. He fights the urge to break down when he sees Baekhyun’s eyes widening as he cowers away, screaming when he sees Chanyeol’s forlorn self. “It’s okay…”

“Why do you refuse to talk to him, Mr. Park?” The psychiatrist asks. 

Chanyeol’s palm sweats against the glass door, his heart yearning to pull Baekhyun into his embrace and tell him that everything is okay—that everything will be fine as long as Chanyeol is there. 

He smiles sadly, heart still racing like it did two years ago, slamming against his chest, throbbing against his bones, when his eyes landed on Baekhyun’s sleepy ones. “Because he doesn’t think I exist.”

The other man sighs, rubbing his temples using his fingers. “When he was younger, Baekhyun used to be my patient.”

Chanyeol looks up in surprise, seeing the torn look on the psychiatrist’s face. 

“Back then, it wasn’t that severe. His mother signed him up for therapy every week and he was my best patient. He had no problems on telling the differences between what is real and what is nonexistent.” The man explains, disappointment etched on the features of his face. “I taught him to fight those imaginary friends away, and he was so happy when he told me that he managed to make his imaginary friends disappear by killing them in his mind. I prescribed him some medications, but eventually, as months go by; his mother could not afford to pay for the medications and extremely expensive therapy sessions.” 

Chanyeol nods, staring at the man in the straitjacket strapped around him so tightly that he looks smaller than he already is. “Yeah… His mother told me about that a few years ago.”

“I didn’t see Baekhyun nor did I see his mother ever since that happened. I suppose the lack of proper medical attention has turned him into a person who can no longer control his own mind…” The psychiatrist shakes his head, clearly upset. “If I had known that things could turn into something physically violent, I would have helped him sooner… I’m so sorry that you had to go through such a horrible event, Mr. Park.”

“It’s fine, I know that Baekhyun didn’t actually mean it…” Chanyeol shifts uncomfortably in his wheelchair, fidgeting. “I-I’m sorry… I still don’t know your name, doctor.” 

“Oh, I apologize for not introducing myself sooner,” The psychiatrist smiles politely, leaning down to clasp Chanyeol’s hand, guiding him to a firm handshake. “My name is Kim Jongdae.” 

  
  



End file.
